A/N: Obviously, I am not setting these dates to canon. If I did, then Harry would've been born in 1980; so all the dates would be moved back seven years. I'm too lazy to go back and change them.  Just wanted to clear that up, since a friend of mine, who frequently betas for me asked about it.

Disclaimer: If I owned 'em, do you think I'd be writing on FFN?

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Present Day

Hermione Riddle stalked the halls of Hogwarts angrily. As usual, her father had ignored her attempt at contact; she was on her own. So she would join the Animagi course. She smiled wickedly; maybe she could become a viper and bite Draco Malfoy – that would teach him to pester her.

And speaking of Malfoy…

"Hello, Herm." She stalked on, ignoring him.

"Herm! Please, stop for one moment."

"What?" she asked, exasperated. Draco leaned forward and kissed her. When he pulled away, SMACK!

"Ow!"

"Don't. Do That. Ever. Again." She growled, and turned away. He grabbed her arm.

"Look, I know you're attracted. You're just afraid to admit that you love a guy, cuz your father never loved you back."

"How dare you mention my father!"

"Easily." Draco drawled. "And I've obviously hit a sore spot. I'm guessing he hasn't let you know his new whereabouts."

Riddle stepped closer to him, grabbing his tie. "Listen to me, and listen well," she hissed. "You do not speak of my father to me. Ever. Or I will make sure you suffer the same fate as your father." Draco gulped, and paled.

"Understood, ma'am."

"Good. Petrificus Totalus!" He thudded to the floor. "After all, I can't have you running after me. Don't worry; someone will discover you soon enough. Maybe it'll be Saint Potter."

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As if her encounter with Draco wasn't enough; Riddle was unfortunate enough to run across "Saint Potter" a few moments later, on her way to the lower dungeons. He was climbing the stairs wearily, looking like he'd spent the last of his energy.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he bumped into her. She shoved him back, and he barely caught himself before tumbling down the stairs. He looked up in shock, then realized who he'd run into. "Great."

"What's the matter, Potter? Not in the mood to see me? Well, I wasn't in the mood to be shoved."

"Look, Herm, I really –"

"Excuse me? Since when do you have the right to call me by a nickname?"

"Old habit." He muttered, and tried to shove past her.

"Oh, no. I don't think so."

"Look, quit it, okay? I'm not going to fight you."

"That's right. Potter the gentleman."

"No. Believe me, I'd love to hit you. But I remember…" The boy gazed at her quietly, and Hermione Riddle suddenly felt nervous. What was Potter thinking?

"What?"

"I remember her. And I'm sure she's still there somewhere; your…" Harry tried to say 'father,' but choked on the word. "Voldemort didn't eliminate her."

"Who?" She demanded angrily. He smiled faintly.

"Hermione." And The Boy Who Lived walked away, leaving a very shocked and puzzled Slytherin behind him.

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He didn't care what Dumbledore said; he was going to go after her. Harry needed Hermione back.

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October 31, 1987

Voldemort  ambled slowly around the house. No need to rush, after all. It had only taken him twenty minutes the last time. The Potters had fought well, especially the girl, but he was better. Much better.

It was a pity, though. He was going to regret killing the girl. She really didn't have to die, but he knew she wouldn't give over the boy. No matter. He was protected now, and he would not fail.

He heard a chiming in the background. Ah, yes. That would be the Godric's Hollow town clock. He counted the tones. Ten pm. he smiled. Might as well not wait any longer. And he headed for the door.

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Present Day

Hermione Riddle stalked the halls early that morning. She was angry. Very angry. Rage was coursing through her, and her blood was hot. She couldn't take this anymore. Potter's behavior yesterday had unnerved. She didn't like being unnerved. She also didn't like being ignored. So she was going to attract some attention.

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Harry was down in the dungeons, again. The circle was ready, the spell book open, and his wand in his pocket. He opened his mouth.

"Wait, Harry."

He closed his mouth and gazed expectantly at Dumbledore.

"Harry, this is going to be difficult. You're going back to the night your parents died. Voldemort will be stronger. And I also know you'll want to help your parents. But, don't."

"But, sir-"

"Harry, there are no coincidences. What happened that night is what led to Voldemort's downfall. If you aid your parents, we cannot be sure of the consequences. You must not interfere until he turns to you."

"Why?" Harry asked, becoming agitated. "Why only me? They're my parents!"

"Because, Harry, if you don't save yourself, then nothing matters. Voldemort will be stronger, and he is now ale to touch you. If he succeeds in killing your year-old self…"

"Fine," Harry snapped. "Fine." He stepped into the circle.

"Paseo Reuno a mey octho," He chanted. The door to the dungeon burst open, and he saw Riddle in the doorway.

"Hello," she said, smiling wickedly. She raised her wand. "Can I join in on the fun?"

"Finish the spell, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly. Harry breathed deeply and opened his mouth to finish the last phrase as Dumbledore walked over to Riddle.

"May I help you, miss Riddle?"

"Yeah, you can."

"Reuno du 1987…" Harry's voiced trailed off, as Riddle's gaze locked with his for a moment. He knew instantly what she meant to do.

"Professor!"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" There was a slight thud as the body hit the ground. Harry gazed at the man who had been his mentor, headmaster, friend, and surrogate grandfather all rolled into one. As the scene became blurry, he raised his gaze, meeting the hate-filled eyes of the girl who used to be his friend.

"Your turn," she smirked.

"Actim," Harry whispered hoarsely.

Hermione Riddle was left in an empty room.